"It’s that stubborn council speaker. He’s holding the entire city hostage for his own pathetic political gain."

Murphy’s hand trembled as he held the document.

The precise exploitation of legal clauses, the way he turned bureaucracy into a defensive weapon—it was the work of a crafty veteran who’d spent his entire life in City Hall.

"This is... this is crooked logic," Murphy muttered.

"It’s the art of administration," Leo corrected. "Scheduling is justice."

Murphy put down the document and took a deep breath.

He had to admit, Leo’s move was brilliant.

With a single schedule, he had defused the imminent legal crisis while also kicking the can further down the road.

As long as the schedule existed, the government had fulfilled its responsibility.

As for why it was scheduled for ten years later? That was because there was no money.

And why was there no money?

Go ask the City Council.

The logic was a perfect loop.

However, as a veteran politician, Murphy quickly saw the greater danger lurking behind this logic.

"Leo, this is just a stalling tactic."

Murphy sat back down on the sofa, his expression still serious.

"You’ve shut the lawyers up with the schedule, but you can’t shut up the citizens."

"You’ve admitted there’s a problem, and you’ve scheduled a fix. That means you’ve taken on a political debt."

"If you promise to fix that road next year, but when next year comes, the road is still a wreck, the citizens’ anger will be even more intense than it is now."

"They’ll call you a liar who only makes empty promises."

"Besides, you said it yourself, the schedule is because there’s no money. You’ll have to fill this bottomless pit sooner or later."

"Where is Pittsburgh supposed to get the money to fill this bottomless pit?"

Murphy spread his hands.

"You can’t expect the Federal Government to keep giving you funding. The city’s tax revenue is what it is, and it still has to support a massive bureaucracy."

Leo listened to Murphy’s analysis and nodded.

"You’re right, John."

"The schedule is just the means. Fixing the roads is the end."

"We can’t keep being in debt to the citizens. We have to get money."

"A lot of money."

Leo pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk.

He took out another document.

This document was much thicker and heavier than the last one. On its cover was the seal of Pittsburgh City, stamped in gold foil.

He stood up, walked over to the coffee table, and pushed the heavy document across to Murphy.

"This is my solution."

Murphy picked up the document, puzzled, and looked at the title on the cover.

Pittsburgh Urban Renewal Special Municipal Bond Issuance Proposal.

Below it was a line of small text:

Issuer: Pittsburgh City Government.

Underwriting Method: Public Tender.

Proposed Total Issuance Amount: Five Hundred Million US Dollars.

Murphy’s hand jerked, and the document nearly fell to the floor.

He snapped his head up and stared hard at Leo, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"Five hundred million?!"

Murphy’s voice shot up an octave, almost cracking.

"Are you kidding me, Leo?!"

"Have you lost your mind?"

Murphy slammed the document on the table.

"Do you have any idea what Pittsburgh’s current credit rating is?"

"Those guys on Wall Street aren’t philanthropists, they’re vampires! They treat credit ratings with more reverence than the Bible!"

"A city with Pittsburgh’s rating would struggle to issue fifty million. And you want to issue five hundred million?"

"These bonds will be worthless paper the moment they’re issued! Nobody will buy them! Not a single one!"

"It’ll be the laughingstock of the financial world!"

Murphy could feel his blood pressure rising.

He’d thought Leo was just planning some small maneuver, but he never expected the young man wanted to pull something this big.

In theory, this was indeed a power granted to the Mayor by law.

As long as the bond’s use was restricted to specific public infrastructure projects, the Mayor had the authority to initiate the issuance process, provided they obtained the city council’s approval.

If the city council compromised, it would mean those thousands of compensation notices had backed them into a corner. They were already desperate for money to fill this bottomless pit.

As long as Leo could produce the money—even borrowed money—to quell the current crisis, the city council members, no matter how unwilling, would have to hold their noses and approve the bond issuance.

The procedural hurdles were no longer the problem.

The real problem was the market.

"Getting it approved is one thing, but being able to sell it is another!" Murphy’s voice was agitated. "Do you think money will just fall from the sky once the city council stamps it?"

"If these bonds can’t be issued, or if the interest rates are ridiculously high because no one wants to buy them, not only will the five hundred million US Dollars be a pipe dream, but your political credibility as Mayor will be completely bankrupt! You’ll become the biggest laughingstock in the entire United States!"

Leo looked at the agitated Murphy, his own expression still calm.

"I know our rating is low."

"And I know the rules of Wall Street."

"That’s precisely why I need you, John."

Leo sat back in his chair and folded his hands.

"You’re right. With Pittsburgh’s current credit, these bonds are junk."

"Unless..."

Leo’s gaze sharpened.

"Unless these bonds have a powerful guarantee."

"A guarantee that those guys on Wall Street can’t refuse."

Murphy froze for a moment.

"A guarantee? Who’s going to guarantee it? The Government of Pennsylvania? The governor is a Republican; he’d love to see you fail."

"No, not the State Government."

Leo shook his head.

"The guarantor we need has to have more weight."

"Who?"

"The Democratic National Committee."